Sympathy for Sebastian
by TreasuredNightmare
Summary: its just a story adaption for the song Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones. this song was practicaly writen for him.its slightly bloody so its rated T just to be safe.


A.N: this is a story adaption for a song i found to be the best fitting for Sebastian. the song is 'Sympathy for the Devil' by The Rolling Stones.

Disclaimer: i do not own Kuroshitsuji OR the song used in the story.

enjoy ^-^

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.:Sympathy for Sebastian:.

His breath came quick as the bright pair of glowing red orbs inched closer. The pitiful man absolutely reeked of terror and the demon relished it. He chuckled at the man—no, his next meal: This poor, naïve man who clearly didn't take the demon seriously when he had contracted with him. He could tell all the while when he was serving him as his partner in crime: that this man had thought it a joke. Maybe it was time to re-introduce himself now that the man seemed to just grasp what he really was—that he was honestly going to devour his soul as was his part of the bargain to fulfill.

The demon outstretched his hand in a mocking gesture to the frightened man.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm a man of wealth and taste." He began with a sly grin on his face. "I've been around for a long, long year: stole many mans soul and faith. And I was around when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain: Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate."

He paused, taking his prey by his sweat-covered hand and kissed the back of it lightly.

"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game." He released his grip on the man and folded his arms behind his back before continuing. "I stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was time for a change. Killed the czar and his ministers—Anastasia screamed in vain."

The demon placed his hand on his forehead in a saluting motion, smiling all the while.

"I rode a tank—held a generals' rank—when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank."

The demon paused again, letting his arm fall back to his side before speedily rushing behind the terrified pray. The motion was too fast for his weak eyes to see so it looked as if he had poofed and then reappeared behind him.

"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. Oh, yeah."

The man jumped in shock, whimpering, too afraid to speak.

"Ah, what's puzzling you is the nature of my game. Oh, yeah."

The demon began to slowly circle him, staring strait ahead.

"I watched with glee while your kings and queens fought for ten decades for the gods they made. I shouted out 'who killed the Kennedy's?'" the demon had stopped his pacing to whisper into his ear. "When after all: it was you and me."

His heart was beating quite fast at the moment—he had to wrap up his speech soon before his prey died of a heart attack.

"Let me please introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. And I laid traps for troubadours who get killed before they reach Bombay. Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name."

The man made a run for it, adrenaline filling his veins at his feeble attempt to get to safety. The demon was inhumanly fast, though, and squashed that fruitless attempt by leaping in front of him and pushing him towards one of the grey, cement walls in the room where he slumped to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game. Oh yeah, get down, baby."

The demon closed in on his prey, getting close enough to where the human could feel his hot breath on his face. The man stared up at him, terrified. He took hold of the mans' shoulders in a vice-grip, readying to devour him. His eyes changed to those of a demon- the silted, glowing orbs piercing through his very soul.

"Please to meet you, hope you guessed my name. Oh yeah, but what's confusing you is the nature of my game."

He let out a scream that ripped through his dry throat. The demon lifted the screaming man up by his throat before crushing his windpipe in his iron grip, quickly silencing the defining noise, and snatched up the fleeting soul as it wormed free of its now dead host body. He ate it whole with a sickening slurp.

"Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners' saints. As heads is tales, just call me Lucifer 'cause I'm in need of some restraint."

Licking the blood from his fingers, grinning ear to ear, he walked away from the broken and bloodied corpse out the front door and onto the moon-lit streets. He strolled down the center of the empty road speaking aloud to the open air.

"So if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste. Mm, yeah. Get down!"

He chuckles.

"Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name. But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game. Mm, mean it, get down…oh yeah~! Oh yeah, get down. Ohhh yeeeaaaah! Tell me baby, what's my name.

"Tell me honey, can ya guess my name?

"Tell me baby, what's my name.

"I tell you one time, you're to blame…"

His footsteps fell into rhythm with the silent tune that had formed in his head.

"Tell me, baby, what's my name…tell me, sweetie, what's my name…?"

Laughter echoes through the empty streets, fading out until the only sound left was the light echo of footfalls.

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reviews?


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